The Phoenix
by Lily-on-the-water
Summary: I started this story on my other profile, so I DID NOT STEAL THIS STORY! But read it, Fang finds Max in a forest when she tried to commit suicide. *Diff names*
1. Prologue

The sun was hidden behind a mass of black clouds, the wind howled around me, and my tears froze to my cheeks. The knife in my hand felt cold and heavy as I stared at it, contemplating what i would do next. Did I realy want to die enoguh to cut north and south, or would I chicken out and cut east and west? Would I even be able to cut myself at all? Would anybody notice, or even care, that I'm gone? Hell, did any of that even matter?!

Tears kept falling, even though I had thought that I cried myself dry hours ago. I could no longer feel my fingers or toes, and my body was beginning to compulse from all the shivering I was doing.

"Does it even matter?" I whispered out loud, finally at my breaking point. My mind had finally had enough. "Is life even worth all of this?" I pressed the blade against my wrist and began to slide it along my vein, north and south. I wanted to die, that much I had come to realize. Blood poured down my wrist and tainted the pure white snow around my body. Stopping what I was doing I lay down to bleed out, not once noticing the boy hiding behind the tree.

As I lie there to die he stepped into my line of sight. I turned my head to see him more clearyl. He had to have been my age or a year older, his shaggy, jet black hair was cut so that it fell across his face and covered his eyes. He looked at me curiously, and then seemed to notice all the blood.

He rushed over to me, tearing off his scarf and ripping off the hem of his shirt. It took me a moment to realize that he was trying to make a turniquette. "No," I whispered, trying to find my voice, then giving up when I realized that I was too far gone.

"Why the hell would you do this?" He screamed at me in a whipser. I felt soem pressure being applied to my arm, but what I really noticed was that I felt all fuzzy inside. "Oh, God! Please don't die!" But I couldn't hear him anymore. I was gone, slipping into blackness.  
'Please, let me be dead. Please.'


	2. Chapter 1

When I awoke it was still dark. The air aound me was cool and smelled of lavender and vanilla. My body was strewn across a staw pallet, and a searing pain went through my wrist. I glanced down at my left wrist from the corner of my eyes and saw that it was wrapped tightly in bandages, and judging by the intense heat of pain, I would guess that whoever had wrapped my arm had also had to give me stitches.

I turned onto my right side to avoid jostling my left wrist or rolling over ontop of it. It was silent, except for my quiet breathing and the spasmodic clicks of the crickets outside. I couldn't stop myself from wondering who had stopped me from dieing, who the person in the woods had been. Who would care enough to save a complete stranger? Or was it all just a mistake?

A knock on the door drew me out of my reverie. I glanced up without moving my head to see who was entering the room. As soon as I saw him, I was immediately filled with shame. He had seen me at my worst possible moment. He had had my blood all over his hands. I quickly looked down, mortification taking over my body. I could feel the heat riding in my cheeks. Nut he said nothing, simply walked over to the side of my pallet and sat down facing me.

He gingerly picked up my injured wrist and began to unwrap it. The stinging sensation only worsened and I couldn't hold beack a twitch of pain. That didn't go unnoticed by my new caregiver. I heard him take in a sharp breath and I was about to apologize when he quielty whispered, "Sorry."

I was flabbergasted. Here I was intruding on him in his own home, and he was apologizing to me. I was too blown away to tell him that it was insane to apologize to _me_. But I did notice that he was even more careful with my injured wrist after that.

"I had to stitch it up," he explained in a deep, mellow voice. He inclined his head at my wrist, and I saw the damage. I was proud that I was able to do that to myself. "You lost a lot of blood. You scared me." I blanched. How could I have scared him. He doesn't even know me!

"Why did you even bother?" I could have slapped myself. I always had a problem with word vomit. But I couldn't deny that the question had been lingering on the tip of my tongue since I had woken up.

He didn't answer at first, and I was afraid that I had offended him. "I guess I never once stopped to think about what I was doing." He paused for a moment, his face took on a look of concentration, and then continued after a moment of silence. "I saw you crying and I wanted to help. THen you took out a knife. scared me then too. I don't know why I waited to stop you, I guess I was hoping that you would stop yourself from doing it, but you didn't. Then you just began cutting." He paused again and my shame only grew. "Then you just sat there and kept whispereing something over and over again, and I froze. When you fell I was able to snap out of it, and i tried to stop the bleeding.

"There was so much blood, but you were smiling and laughing. You kept saying that it was finally over." I twinged, guilt racked my body. "Then when I tried to help you you said 'No' and told me to let you die. When you passed out I nearly gave up. But I was able to get you back to my house. I had to take off your sweater to stitch up your wrist. You dind't have anything but a tank top on underneath...and well...I saw your..."

'Oh no, please no! Don't tell me he saw those!!' I felt like screaming. Nobody head ever seen that part of my body before. "What did you see?" I asked in a barely audible whisper.

Looking up at his face I saw him blush a brilliant, crimsom red. "They were very beautiful."

"What did you see?" I asked again, only this time more fiercely.

He visibly twitched and my gut dropped. I could see his stress level rise as he tried to think of a way to make it sound better. To make me feel better about it. By now I had a pretty good idea of wht he was about to say, and I wanted to die...again.

"I want to let you know that it's not your fault," I said softly.

He looked down at me, his dark eyes were soft and sympathetic. "I saw your back." He froze, but decided to add, "I saw your wings."


	3. Chapter 2

There wasn't a sound in the room that could penetrate my pure astonishment. "You couldn't have..." I broke off, realizing that I had been redressed. But that meant he saw _everything_.

"They're very pretty." I looked up at his aprehensive face. The look of fear had been wiped away from his facial features, but still lingered in his eyes. I tried to search deeper, to pinpoint the source of his fear. "They shine in the light, and I like how dark they are."

I refused to answer. My heart was racing out of my chest and I felt like crying. I had spent my entire life keeping them a secret and now one boy had ruined it all. I glanced around. It was eerily quiet. "Where's your family."

Immediately I wanted to slap my face. The look of sheer pain on his face was enough to understand that he was all alone. "Forget I asked."

"No, it's alright." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I guess introductions are in order?" I nodded and he continued after a slight pause. "My name is fang. At least, that's what they called me. They being my old family. I was thirteen when a band of barbarians attacked our home. They were slaughtered as I ran to get help." A long, awkward pause of silence followed. My heart ached for him and my wrist seemed to flare with pain more intensely now. "Of course I have gotten over it for the most part, but I do get very lonely all by myself. That's why I hope you can stay for a while. At least until your wrist heals a bit more."

I noticed that it was my turn to spill my guts. "My name is Phoenix Russo." I paused, "My mother died when I was five, and my father followed three years later. I lived with a family until a few days ago when..." I couldn't find my voice. It seemed as if I had lost it when the truth was so close to the surface. He had shared his painful past with me, why couldn't I share this with him?

_Maybe it's because it's not part of the past. Maybe because he won't stop until he finds you. Maybe it's because you still belong to __him_. "Until a few days ago when they kicked me out." I lied quickly. My heart still pounded at the memories that flooded through my mind and I became aware of the searing pain in my wrist yet again. It felt as if someone had released a fire in my veins.

Fang noticed my discomfort and placed a cool towel over the bandages. "Thank you," I whispered. We looked at eachother for a moment, in which it felt as if we were staring into eachother's souls. I knew at that moment that he knew I hadn't been kicked out, and I knew that he wouldn't stop trying to figure out what really happened.

Fang finally stood up, "I need to tend to the horses. I'll be back in just a moment. Please rest." I nodded as he turned to leave and lay down on my pallet.

I heard the door close quietly. Thirty minutes passed painfully slow. I got up to look out the window in hopes of seeing what was taking him so long. What I saw made me faint, and my body did not hit the floor softly.


	4. Chapter 3

Although I was outside, my inhuman hearing picked up the sound of a woman gasping. It came from my house. The only person in my house was Phoenix. My shirt was off, revealing my back. I put two and two together and realized what she must have seen.

"I'm a damn fool!" Swearing under my breath, I threw on my shirt-realizing that it was already too late, but still doing it anyways- and ran toward the back door. I heard an extremely loud, and what sounded like it was painful, thump of a body hitting the floor. I swore again. I knew I was stupid, I relied on her injury and mellow mood to keep her uninterested in me, and to keep her lieing down. I never thought that she would go to the window and see....what she saw.

Embarassment flowed through my veins, I could feel my cheeks burn with a deep blush. The snow around me was pure white, and the sky had begun to cloud over. Deep black storm clouds were moving in. Swearing yet again, I ran the rest of the distance to the house, the winter air now feeling bitterly cold against my sweaty skin.

As soon as I entered the parlor, I nearly dropped dead at the sight of it, Phoenix was sprawled across the floor, her jet black wings spread slightly as her muscles relaxed completely. For the first time in the past few hours, he saw her face completely relaxed, almost like she was happy.

I wondered if she had truly wanted to die as I gingerly picked up her body-sure to mind her head. I noticed a bit of blood trickling from her forehead and went to grab a few bandages from the cabinet. Wrapping her head didn't allow me a realease from my mind. I still had too much time to think. I was left to myself, wondering if it was a mistake to save her. Not that I regretted it. I mean, she was not only beautiful, but there was something about her. I longed to find out what possessed her to do what she did.

I also remebered her scars. When I had to redress her, which I remember as being extremely embarassing and uncomfortable (I swear I never looked, not even once). She had cuts all over her body. But that wasn't the disturbing part. Not even close.

She wrote words in her skin. things like die, worthless, release, stop, no, and several phrases that would make a nun scream in despair. I knew the second I saw her, that she was a darker person, she wasn't like most girls I had known. She almost reminded me of Cobalt, my horse. He was very anti-social and preferred solitude. But inside, Cobalt carried such tender love and care for his rider that I am still amazed.

I looked down at Phoenix as she shuffled in her sleep. I prayed that she didn't have a concussion, but I was too afraid to wake her. It seemed like the only time she was truly at peace was when she was unconscious. As I turned something caught my eye, a flash of dark blue and black.

Turning I saw a leather cord around her neck that I hadn't seen before. There was no way I could have missed it. It was an amulet, a dark blue moon with gem in the middle, hanging aroound her neck on a black leather string. I was tempted to remove it as she slept, the string was long and I didn't want her to strangle herself, but thought better of it.

I promised myself to ask her about it when she awoke. A knock on the door distracted me from processing that thought any further. I looked out a smalle hole. Outside the door stood a chubby young man, not older than fifteen, no older than he. The man had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, the perfect little aryan.

I paused before opening the door. "How may I be of assistance, sir?" He looked at me, and all I saw was pure hate. Thick, unsatable, malevolent, petrifying hate.

"Where the fuck is Phoenix?"

AN: Sorry about not being up to date with updating (does that make sense? it sounds weird.) Anyway I must ask a serious question. Well, questions; 1- Do you like it? AND BE HONEST!!! 2- Should there be a lemon at any given point? 3- Should I even continue?

And I want to point out that some of the future events/memories are based off of things that happened to me, so please don't bash it. I understand that some people might get upset, but honestly it's not my fault! Okay? Please review. ^-^ I won't update until I get at least 5 reviews! It's not that herd. Just click the little button!


	5. bulletin

I am deeply sorry to anyone who has been reading this. My dad just died so I am going to try to continue writing but I don't know how long it will be. Again, I am very sorry.


End file.
